Alone
by commando34186
Summary: A girl expresses herself and how she feels, will she contort to the blade, or try to put up with the stress more?


Why me? Everything just seems to happen to me, I don't know why though. I just want to run away from it all. School, friends, liers, everything.

Blue eyes gaze down at a pair of pale hands. They have scars covering them, barely noticeable, but they're there. They're placed on top of a bathroom bench, just resting there. The eyes slowly look up at the mirror, staring into themselves. They become glazed over as hot tears sting them.

The pain. It hurts to be alone, but it kills to be around people who only pretend. School was the worst place to be at. Surrounded by people, suffocating under they're hurtful words and actions. You can never hear them, but you know they're talking about you. The way the look at you, it's un-nerving, scary and frighting.

Dripping... why do I hear the sound of liquid dripping? Oh... I'm crying. I must've been so lost in my thoughts that I didn't notice. I sigh. This happens most of the time, everyday nearly. At school, down town, at home, anywhere. People give me a weird look when I cry it feels as if I'm a freak... oh wait, I am.

Ever since I was little, people would tease me. At first I think it was because I used to act like a cat, a tiger mainly. I would hiss, meow, screech and even scratch at people. But I was young and stupid. Why couldn't they see that?

The words kept flying, all the insults. It's as if I'm drowning in them, suffocating even. I just sit there, surrounded by other school pupils, taking everything in, feeling claustrophobic, of everyone and everything. Then again large open spaces terrify me; they make me feel vulnerable to an attack.

Even when I'm in class I'm bomb-barded by the insults. When I'm being asked out by a crush, I am only to be rejected the moment I accept.

Now 9 year later, I'm 16. But still being the victim of teasing, be it for my looks or for what I do. My hair was naturally an ash brown. I hated it. I would streak and foil my hair at times, only burgundy though. Then when it came to my grade 10 formal, I was going to dye it dark brown, but instead it dyed black instead.

After that I was called Goth, I got used to it though, but then when they noticed they got no response out of me, they started to call me 'emo'. Some kid then started a rumour that I would cut myself. I was so stupid I told them I tried once.

I'm failing school, my parents believe it's because I stay on the computer to much. But it's not my fault my real friends are on the instant messengers. They listen to me, they understand me. I have my so called friends on it also from school. They never listen to me, only laugh or never reply, because they just close the window.

Liers they are. They say they care for me, that they're scared for me. Bull shit. I can hear them talk about me behind my back. Their whispers are the loudest of all. They tease me for my passions. Drawing, writing and Beyblade.

They always say that Beyblade is hentai, and thus I draw hentai. Not true. The closest thing to anime porn I have ever drawn would have to be a shirtless guy or two.

My parents say their worried for me too. Yeah right, they yell at me everyday. Last night my dad yelled at me because I don't stick up for myself at school. He and I both know that I can fight but I can never bring myself to hit someone.

A sob escapes my lips. I want to leave school. I just want to get away from it all, somehow... My face is now tear stained; I let morbid thoughts slip into my head. Of blood and death. I don't want to die, or kill myself. I want to find someone to love, someone to hold me, safe in their arms. But with everything going on, it's hard to believe that I'll ever find someone.

Slowly I slip my shirt off. A black and red one labelled 'Keep Australia Beautiful - GET TATOOED'. Then my baggy blue jeans and undergarments. I look into the mirror again. There's nothing much of me to look at, I've never found myself looking attractive in any way. I enter the shower which had been on previously. Feeling the hot, steamy water spray over my naked body.

I run a hand through my hair as I was it, then myself. After cleaning I lean back against the wall, sliding down it to a sitting position.

I feel lost, I'm confused. Tears are hidden under the shower water. I close my eyes as my hand grasps a razor. I stare at the steal blade within the razor before dropping it. No, I wont cut myself, I would never do that. But for now, I'll stay alone. 


End file.
